


Blowing Off Steam

by squirtysadist



Category: The Flight Attendant (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/F, Girl Penis, Possessive Behavior, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28259961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squirtysadist/pseuds/squirtysadist
Summary: Miranda's had a shit evening--you know exactly what she needs.
Relationships: Miranda Croft/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 82





	Blowing Off Steam

There was a guy with his hand on your lower back, trying to lead you away from the main Unisphere Party. You didn’t know this guy, you didn’t want his hand on you, but there it was, on your lower back, trying to lead you into some secluded corner in the guise of ‘helping you find your friend’.

Your friend being Miranda. Who appeared out of fucking nowhere, pissed off.

“You,” she said, grabbing your arm roughly, and began pulling you away from him, “what the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?”

”Hey––!“ the guy said before Miranda’s head snapped to face him.

“Do you want to walk out of here with that hand?” she snapped. The guy paled, mumbling some excuse before he left, leaving you in Miranda’s full ire. “What the _fuck_?” she asked.

“Come off it! He wouldn’t leave me alone, and you told me to be _nice_ to the clients.”

”Not _suck their cock_!”

“I wasn’t––“ you tugged free of her grasp and glared at her. “As if I fucking would. You think I’m interested in a guy like that,” you scoffed, honestly offended that she would think you were even interested in him. “Christ, Miranda. Have _some_ respect for my taste. You left me by myself for two fucking hours. All I did was talk nice with a bunch of people and drink champagne.”

Miranda’s eyes darted over your expression, and it seemed to take the bite off whatever she was feeling. She was still _pissed off_ , but you suspected that had very little to do with you.

“And that guy?”

You ignored the question, not dignifying it with a response. “Are you ready to get out of here?” you asked.

Miranda gave a nod and then began walking out, towards the front door, expecting you to follow. You sighed, walking off to coat-check and collecting your jacket before following her outside as she called a car for you both. Anger rolled through her shoulders as she paced over the pavement, glaring.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” you asked.

She shook her head, lips curling in a scowl. Whatever it was, she wasn’t happy.

You waited in silence until the car rolled up before you. The driver stepped out, opened the door and then you climbed in. He was one of Viktor’s guys and you offered him a brief look of apology before shifting across the seat.

Miranda slid in next to you and slammed the door shut, ripping it from the driver’s hand. It rattled the doorframe and you winced, looking away from her.

Twenty minutes until you’d be home, you recalled. Twenty minutes and then you’ll get the elevator and go all the way up to the apartment, get inside, sit her down nicely and suck her off as she needed. She’d run her hands throw your hair and groan nicely, and if you were very, very lucky, she might have enough steam to pull you into her lap.

Otherwise, you would curl up beside her and put something on tv until she was ready to shower and go to bed.

You closed your eyes as the cityscape drove past, feeling the champagne wash down your spine. You’d only had two glasses, but it was enough with the evening to make your head rush in the car.

“That guy wanted to fuck you,” Miranda said. “Why you didn’t walk away sooner?”

“He wasn’t technically rude. If I left, I would have been rude and he would have made a scene,” you explained, knowing it’d go well over her head. Men didn’t sleazily seduce women like Miranda. “I wasn’t going to fuck him.”

“Then why did you dress like that?” she asked.

 _Ah_ , there it was, the beginning of her annoyance in the evening. You turned in the seat, looking at her. She was almost snarling, a fury burning inside of her. “So you’d fuck me,” you told her. “I wanted to be in your peripheral all evening, driving you crazy so all you could think about was fucking me. Did it work?”

She snapped forward then and you almost yelped before her mouth pressed hungrily against your, her hand sliding underneath your dress. She pushed you against the passenger door and you felt her stroke rough, long movements before she shoved fingers inside of you.

“ _Is this what you wanted_?” she asked.

“Yes,” you responded honestly, rocking your hips over her fingers.

“Did you want that guy to fuck you like this?”

“No.”

“Just me? Because you’re my little slut, aren’t you?” she asked, and you panted, feeling her thrust inside of you. You nodded, biting back a whine. “Say it.”

“Yours, only yours.”

“That’s right. Mine to do as I like,” she growled, and then pulled away, fingers dragging out of you slow enough that you whimpered as she moved back to her side of the car without another a word.

The rest of the drive was quiet and you could feel her thinking. It seemed to fill the entire car as your heartbeat slowed.

When the driver parked, she didn’t wait for him to open the door. She shoved it open and stalked out. You sighed and slid out of the car, following her as you grasped at your clutch.

She was waiting by the elevator door, fingers incessantly pressing the button, _click click click_ , like it would make the elevator come down faster. “We’re almost home,” you said to her, trying to remind her of what you'd promised. Though her bad mood was permeating your own.

When you stepped up beside her, she barely glanced at you, and just gritted her jaw. You knew better than to say anything further and moved to clasp your hands before you.

Finally, it arrived. When the doors opened, you entered the elevator car and watched as she pressed your floor, only to be denied until you reached into your clutch and pulled out the keycard, swiping it and pressed the floor.

“ _Fucking Christ_ ,” she muttered and stepped back in the elevator. You pressed the _close door_ button, even though it wouldn’t work before you turned around to face her. She was glaring coldly, her body locking into a cocked hip position. You walked towards her, barely two feet away. It was enough space that you could move forward and kiss her but were far enough away that you weren’t encroaching on her space.

“You did well tonight,” you told her, almost hoping that she might reach for you and slide her hand underneath the slit in your dress. But she didn’t.

Instead, she took a deep breath and then you felt her eyes settle on you, her scowl tugging into a dangerous, familiar smirk as she leant against the bannister that went around the mirrors. “On your knees for me, then.”

“We’re almost home, can’t you wa––” she lunged forward, grabbing you by your hair and yanking you close enough that you could see her pupils dilate.

She was _pissed off_ , and rightfully so for the reprimand she’d taken from Viktor. She needed to blow off steam, and right now, that involved you sucking her off like you promised. If it was in an elevator, so be it.

“You said you’re _mine._ So prove it, on your knees. I won’t ask again.” The smirk disappeared, replaced by a dangerous look that sent a thrill down your spine.

“Of course,” you agreed. Her fingers let go of you and you watched her shift her hips as you shrugged your coat off, dropping your clutch upon on it before you knelt before her. She looked down at you, locks of hair falling over half her face as she waited.

The elevator hummed in the quiet settling between you. At any time, a person could summon it to their floor. At any time, it could open and someone could step in.

“Well?” she asked. “I don’t fucking have all night.”

How many minutes did an elevator take to go forty flights? You reached forward, unbuckling her pants and tried not to think about it.

And then you were pulling out her cock, looking up at her. The feral energy returned, her eyes steady on yours as you parted your mouth, tongue coming out to lick over the length of her shaft. You could feel the blood flow drawing into it, twitching underneath your hand as you tongue flicked over the head of the shaft.

Her hair curled into your hair, and you could feel the hairpins pricking into your scalp as she pulled you forward. Mouth wide-open, you let her press her cock against the flat of your tongue, deep into your mouth.

“Be a good girl,” she said, and her fingers curled tighter, her hips rocking the cock deeper into you.

You pressed your lips around her and drew back, looking up at her. It could be a dirty thing. You could suck her off as quickly as possible. But the way she was staring at you, as a small exhale left her mouth, you knew what she needed.

You stroked your hand down the length of her cock as you sunk your self further on her, your tongue flicking back, underneath her before you drew away, coming to the head of cock, your tongue curling over her.

She exhaled, hand curling tighter in your hair, and you closed your eyes, sinking down on her, bringing her deep into your mouth, feeling her slide all the way down.

You set a pace and felt her urge you harder, and then the hand in your hair was fisting your hair as she groaned.

Opening your eyes, you looked up at her and watched as she gasped, her chest rising and falling, eyes falling half-lidded as her lips tugged into an almost smile. “That’s my girl,” she said, with a small laugh.

It was enough to make your chest flutter. You were _hers_ and no one else's.

The hand in your hair slipped low, to the back of your neck and she was cupping it, urging your deeper and you took her as far as she would go. Sliding back and forth on her cock, feeling it twitch in your mouth. And then Miranda was breathing in a long, deep breath, her head tilting back, up at the ceiling and you knew.

You anticipated with excitement, rocking forward towards her and felt as she came. It spilt across your tongue and down your throat, and then she thrusted again, groaning with it as ejaculated into your mouth.

You swallowed, eagerly and then pulled back slowly over her cock, licking the tip as she withdrew. The elevator _d_ _inged!_ And you watched as she tiredly tucked herself back in her pants before she looked down at you and smiled.

“Would you look at that,” she said, and then she reached down and slid her thumb across your lips, swiping at the missed droplet. You licked it and then quickly pulled the thumb into your mouth, sucking over it and watched as new energy returned to her eyes.

Her thumb left your mouth with a small _pop_ and you grinned at her as you rose to your feet, grabbing your clutch and jacket, and pressed the _open_ of the doors before they could slide shut. Stepping out into the hallway of your floor. Miranda walked behind you almost lazily, and when you went to pull out the key to the apartment, she pressed against your back, nuzzling your throat. “I haven’t forgotten about you,” she promised, her hand prominently sliding underneath the slit of your dress to touch over your sex. “I going to fuck every single hole of yours until you’re just _filled_ with me.”

You moaned at that, feeling her fingers rock over you, teasing of what was to follow.

“Already so wet for me, sweetheart?”

“Always.”

The door opened, you slipped inside and got as far as closing the door behind you before she pressed you against the back of it, and buried her fingers deep inside your cunt.

It was going to be a long, sleepless night––well deserved after the evening you'd both had. 


End file.
